


The World of Make Believe

by willowwand



Category: Outlander - Gabaldon
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-05
Updated: 2010-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 08:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowwand/pseuds/willowwand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank is startled by his young daughter Brianna's new game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World of Make Believe

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Voyager

Frank Randall's wingtips sounded sharply against the waxed hardwood floors as he made his way to his office. The sun shined weakly through the window at the opposite end of the corridor. It was getting late and he was eager to collect Brianna and go home to make dinner.

He had left Brianna napping on the sofa in his office and had asked Mrs. Clancy, one of the secretaries, to keep a close eye on her while he attended a brief meeting with the head of the department. Unfortunately brevity was not a gift that Tom Longfellow possessed, and Frank had spent the better part of an hour discussing an upcoming conference in Chicago with him.

He wondered if Claire could be persuaded to take some time off then. Otherwise, they would have to make arrangements for Brianna's care. Not for the first time, Frank cursed Claire and her inability to conform to convention. He tried to ignore the glances his colleagues made when he first had brought Brianna to the office after school, the looks of pity from men who didn't have to iron their own shirts, or cook spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. He didn't regret the time he got to spend with his daughter. He loved Brianna, but he couldn't deny that it embarrassed him that his wife didn't behave as she should. A girl needed her mother, and yet Claire seemed more interested in helping strangers than her own family. He shook his head angrily, but he would not allow his mind to travel down that well-traveled road. Not right now anyway.

Mrs. Clancy was at her desk, talking on the telephone when he walked past. He hoped Brianna hadn't been too much trouble for her, though he was sure that she was much better-behaved than Mrs. Clancy's grandson, Bart. That boy was a menace. While Brianna was mischievous from time to time, she wasn't anything like that terror.

The door to his office was closed, but not locked. He turned the knob and stepped inside. Immediately he felt a moment of panic seeing that Brianna was missing from her spot on the couch and nowhere in sight.

"Brianna?"

"Hi, Daddy!" she said springing up from underneath his desk, her shining red pigtails bouncing merrily. She wore a blue plaid pinafore dress like the other girls who went to her primary school, which, at the moment, looked hopelessly rumpled.

"What are you doing under there, Little Beauty?" he asked, smiling indulgently as his fear gave way to relief.

"I'm playing in my cave," she said.

"Your cave?"

"Uh huh," Brianna said. "Wanna see?"

"All right," Frank said coming round the desk and kneeling carefully beside her.

Brianna scooted further underneath the desk. There were a pile of her yellow number 2 pencils off to the side. He moved to pick up one of the pencils, but she grabbed his wrist.

"Don't, Daddy," she said. "That's my fire."

"Why do you have a fire in your cave?" he asked.

"To make food."

"Ah, I see," he said. "So you're camping in your cave."

"Uh huh," she replied.

"But why a cave?" he asked in confusion. "Why not a tent like in Girl Scouts?'

"My friend lives in a cave," she explained.

"Ah," he said, enjoying his daughter's rich imagination. "A friend from school, you mean?"

"No, Daddy," she laughed.

"Well, where did you meet this friend?"

"I dream about him. He sleeps in the cave. And he has long red hair, like mine, and blue eyes, and he's big," Brianna said in one breath. "His name is Jamie."

Frank broke out in a cold sweat, disconcerted by her statement. She couldn't possibly mean…

"Jamie?"

"Uh huh," Brianna said. "That's what one of the boys calls him…the one with curly hair, not the one that talks funny."

"Talks funny?"

"Like this," she said adopting an odd French accent. "Hello, Milord."

Frank wrinkled his forehead. "This dream you had… Can you tell me more?"

"They wear funny clothes," Brianna said. "Like the men in your books."

She gestured to the collection of books he had on the shelf behind his desk. All were references he was using to piece together events from the eighteenth century, many of which had artwork and diagrams of everything from weaponry to clothing. He knew Brianna liked to look at them sometimes.

"And do you dream about this man often?" he asked, feeling rather ill.

Brianna nodded. "Sometimes he looks up at the sky outside his cave. He says funny words, too."

"Isn't that nice?" he said weakly, though in reality he thought it was anything but. "You haven't seen this man anywhere while you're awake, have you?"

"Nope," she said. "Daddy, I'm hungry."

"Are you, Little Beauty?" Frank said, desperately trying to regain his composure. "Well, pick up your pencils and we'll go home."

"Okay, Daddy," she said.

She grabbed her pencils and shoved them into her Mickey Mouse pencil case while Frank retrieved his leather briefcase and her satchel and slung them over his shoulder. Brianna ran to the door and opened it wide.

"Bree," he said, as he stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind them. "I don't think you should tell your mother about your...ah…friend."

"Why not, Daddy?" she asked.

He looked in her slanted blue eyes and felt a familiar twist in his stomach. Her face was nothing like his own, which was to be expected. But she didn't look much like Claire either.

Damn you, Jamie Fraser, Frank thought, whoever you were.

"Well, your mum isn't interested in camping," he said finally. "Hey, why don't we set up a tent in the garden this weekend?"

"Okay, Daddy!"

Brianna chattered enthusiastically the entire way home. He was grateful that she didn't mention the man or the cave again. Slowly he felt himself begin to relax again as Bree made plans for their weekend. She excitedly talked of sleeping outside and building a small fire outside in which to toast marshmallows while Frank's mind wandered.

It seemed that every time he began to move on and feel comfortable with the way things were, something always reminded him of the cracks in their façade. Sometimes it was triggered the faraway expression on Claire's face when she looked at Brianna. Sometimes it was just coming across the name Fraser while reading. But this was the most unsettling. At first he had wondered whether Claire had told Brianna something, but quickly dismissed the thought. She had given him her word, and he knew he could trust that. But Brianna dreaming about a man she had never heard about, had never seen... His stomach twisted again.

He shook his head. He didn't believe Claire's fanciful story; he couldn't. This was just a coincidence. Tonight he'd look through the books he often read Brianna before bed to see if there was anything she may have read to give her these dreams. Making up his mind, Frank turned his attention back to his daughter and their plans for the weekend.


End file.
